Age of Edolas
by Flipzfish
Summary: When the sun disappears from the sky. Natsu is the one that wants to find her again. He will be tested, by magic, creatures and his own mind on his journey to uncover the secrets their new king has buried and find their sun before time runs out. All characters will be in this sooner or later. Fantasy AU
1. Prologue: Of Times Spent

**I'm posting the prologue and the first three chapters to see how people feel about this story, please tell me if you like it.**

 **Prologue:**

 **Of Times Spent**

Breath carries weight in this world where every word is a balancing act. Precious tales of times so different than the present- rumours of an era when the skies smiled- balanced on a scale of deception and survival. These morphemes of blood myth speak of a time when the Moon didn't kill the Sun. Maniacal rants of men lost in their minds, but still people listen, still regard these legends with hope that once again the Sun will rise.

They all start the same- with the ballad of the Sun and Moon's love. A love said to rival the radiance of newborn hope in a land paved in fear. At dawn, the Sun would reach her arms towards her lover to embrace him before he set and at dusk she held his hand, mixing their light, until only their fingertips touched. Soon, these moments were not enough, but they were rulers of different kingdoms, one sleeping in eternal rest, the other dancing with the joys of life. The Sun decided to don a disguise, as to not wake her lover's slumbering reign, and spend the night by his side. As soon as her rays were nothing more than painted strips of red and orange on the horizon, she would sneak into the Moon's domain, protected by a shroud that couldn't contain her light. Stars appeared in the sky, keeping the lonely moon company for many nights, and they were happy. But, not all happiness can last. The Moon grew jealous of the Sun's light. He listened to the people of the earth, and only ever heard them recite poems of the star's brilliance and admire the golden light of the Sun; never did he hear them sing praise for the Moon. Indelible envy clutched his heart with insatiable hunger to become greater than the Sun. Agonized by her love's greed and heartbroken by his betrayal, the Sun left the night sky, taking the stars with her.

The Moon thought that now that the stars had left, people would see him as the great being he saw himself as. Once more he listened to man but, instead of the words of worship he had expected, he heard only cries for the lost stars. Enraged, the Moon tried to steal the Sun's light. One night, he refused to set. He told the Sun that the only way that the people would ever see day again, would be if she gave him her light.

The Sun refused, but every night, the Moon became stronger, feasting on the fear of the humans and, as man became weaker, so did the Sun. Soon, the Sun was no longer able to fight the Moon and to save her light, she sealed it within herself and hid from his greedy grasp.

These legends, written in the strength of Man's blood, speak of the Sun Goddess's hidden light. They claim that the Sun sits in her self-inflicted prison, chained in a lock guarded by four tests and a key shaped as man itself. When man proves ready, the world will know light again, but until that day, these legends will remain legends and the Sun will remain hidden. She will wait in this world that knows not what sunlight is and how the stars twinkle on the backdrop of the night. She waits, dreaming of the days when she shared the sky with the Moon.

Fiore was a kingdom ruled under the hands of Zeref. It was a kingdom that once, in its brighter days, held festivals in its streets and churches opened their doors to those who worshiped the Sun. But those were brighter days. Now it lay in decay as the Moon God forced his infection to fester at the once-great kingdom's heart- Crocus. Crocus was once called the Flower Blooming capital, but that name was now only whispered between breaths in darkened corners and back alleys. Flowers died until only stems and weeds remained and the blossoming capital fell under the title of Eclipse.

Mercurius tumbled into disrepair as Zeref took his throne and the city descended into ruins around it. It didn't happen all at once. One day the city wasn't a flower and the next a dried husk. No, pieces of past culture fell away with the years. The jaunty clusters of homes that ringed the castle slumped closer together, as if kneeling for their new king. Their pointed roofs creating a thorny halo, the perfect crown for an impostor. There were no festivals of light. No more dancing or song. Only worship was allowed, only praise confessed. And there was no udder of challenge, no mention of the Sun.

The further away from the capital, the less hold Zeref claimed on the land. Some cities like Hargeon and Cedar, felt his reign more than others. With the ports forced closed and travel to other parts of the nation restricted, it wasn't only a source of income that disappeared, but a way of life too. People fled the dying lands to surrounding towns, only the hearty stayed to preserve a culture of a time past.

In other cities, the new king's rule was hardly felt. Magnolia was one such town. Though it had flourished under the Sun, the dawn of eternal night didn't crush its heart. While it's people still feared the wrath of the Moon- while the Sun wasn't spoken openly about- there was something there. Something called hope.

Now hope is such a little word, often lost in the vast world. It starts with a flint, that causes a spark that ignites passion in its wake. Such a wild thing. Such a fickle thing. A little wind could extinguish the flame or it could spread it further. Magnolia cultivated such a spark. Though wind and rain had threatened it, it was stubborn, flickering like a beacon leading sailors home. Pelted with rain and refusing to fall, it stands protected by those who believe.

In recent years, those numbers had diminished. Dwindling until only a few clung to it with bleeding hands. Still hope stayed.

Natsu was one of the few, just like his father before him. He had heard the tales hundreds of times. The Sun Goddess was a myth to many, lost in the years of darkness called the Age of Edolas. For generations now, the idea of light were the flickering candles that lit the room, the blazing fires that caused shadows to dance upon the walls. The idea of sunlight was a concept lost in times when books took up space on shelves and paintings covered the walls. These twisted tales, passed from mouth to mouth down the backs of family trees, were laughed at. A symbol of the desperate trying to spread their hope.

Zeref claimed that the Sun Goddess was gone, killed by his hand for her act of defiance. For her refusal to kneel before her king. As punishment he stole her stars but still she stood, so then he took life. In his story there was no hope. In his tale he won the war.

But Natsu knew. Knew that those old legends carried truth. He knew that the fables that entertained children were not the rants of a babbling idiot, not the deranged prayers of those who still dared to worship Mavis, the Sun. He also knew that this was a battle that Zeref had won, not the war, for he would find the Sun and restore her light to the heavens, banishing the darkness that clings to the bony hands of the Moon God, Zeref.

 **So this is a little different from anything else I have written, it's a fantasy story and I really just wanted to try my hand at it. Anyways I thought I would clear a few things up:**

 **-Mavis is the Sun Goddess, often just referred to as the Sun. When Zeref tried to take her light (think of it as magic like Fairy Heart) she hid it within herself and hid from him. Now she is unable to use it again until man finds her and proves himself worthy by passing her four tests**

 **-Zeref is the Moon God, often called just the Moon. He has taken rule over Fiore and plunged the kingdom into eternal night**

 **-Last, Zeref tells everyone that he has killed Mavis, but tales speak of the life she leads hidden away and Natsu has taken it upon himself to find her**

 **Oh my goodness that was long, but I hope that clears some things up. I will be updating this, but it won't be on a set schedule- I'm sorry but with school it is hard to be able to write as much as I want, so I don't want to disappoint. Anyways, feel free to press that heart, post a comment, or just follow the story. Love you all.**


	2. Forgetting the Past

**Chapter 1:**

 **Forgetting the Past**

"Those tales are nothing more than myths to keep the people working hard and the children inside, scared the Moon will snatch them up like he did the stars," the barkeep growled. "Give it up, Natsu. Stay here and help with the harvest. We've been gifted a plentiful plot this year."

The man looked up from his ale and the mindless patterns the bubbles were making in the froth of it. "Yes, and the seas have been calm for lots of fish and flu has been down due to the God's aid," he responded, running his finger along the rim of his cup to catch the moisture before it beaded and fell.

"You'll bring the God's wrath spiting them like that," the barkeep warned. "Work in the Houses. They bring good money."

"She must be out there, Jura."

"Watch that mouth of yours. Walls have ears and you'll find yourself in trouble," the man named Jura cautioned.

The smaller man looked around. Other than the few regulars that sat at the far end of the bar, the tavern was empty. The gentle lull of their conversation, broken only by the occasional bark of laughter or spill of drink, drifted along the heavy air of the room.

"Jura, I'm meant for more than hauling dirt and planting seeds. I need to be out there."

"You need to let go of these fairy tales of yours and start working before you lose your father's house. The Harvest Houses are hiring again."

The Harvest Houses were large buildings constructed soon after the Sun's disappearance to grow crops without the aid of her light. In the centre of each house, a fake sun resided, manned by a mage from a group called The Six Prayers, who claimed the Moon had given them the wisdom they needed to turn flame into sunlight.

"I don't need money. I need truth," Natsu huffed, running his fingers along the swirls on the bar's surface. The flickering candle beside him causing shadows to dance in the wake of his hand.

"That's not truth, those are delusions and desperation, Natsu," Jura sighed, leaning his burly arms on the bar.

"Maybe that's what we need. All tales have a seed of truth."

"Not this one," Jura said, leaving the man to the shadows to pour one of the farmers a beer before returning.

"Why don't you believe in her?" Natsu asked the returning barkeep.

"What has she ever done to prove that she alive? Still listening to our prayers?"

"So you still pray to her," Natsu smiled, catching the man's choice of words.

"Not anymore. She's dead, Natsu. Move along like everyone else."

"She's alone and she needs help."

"Or she's gone and needs to be forgotten."

"I'll find her. Prove she was listening to you," Natsu decided, standing up as if to leave.

"You start searching for her and Zeref won't look kindly upon you."

"He hasn't looked kindly upon any of us since his greed turned the lands black and his rage broke the people's backbone to fight," Natsu snapped, turning sharply to level his glare at the man behind the bar.

"The Moon rules us Natsu. Be careful what you say," Jura warned, arms crossed and tucked into the long sleeves of the robe he always wore.

"And every king must fall. I'll prove to him that being powerful is not the same as having power, even if I have to beat it into that thick head of his," Natsu vowed, sliding a few gold coins onto the table before walking out into the never ending twilight.

Jura stared after the smaller man, a curious look on his face. He was so full of passion, of trust, of rage. And without meaning to, he passed the spark of hope to the hulking man, because maybe- just maybe- Natsu was right. Maybe these lies that their new king forced upon the kingdom, infecting the land with, were wrong. Maybe the bursting boils that rot the ground they stand upon could be cured. And maybe, the Sun Goddess could be found. Maybe- just maybe.

As the man watched Natsu's form meld with the shadows outside, he prayed to the Sun for the first time in years. The childhood wonder he had chained in a box shifted, almost as if he had awakened something that was only sleeping, not forgotten. As if the bigger man only needed to be reminded of hope to believe again.

Lamia Scale was one of the few taverns open during the early afternoon hours. Not that one could tell it was afternoon with the starless expanse that clung to the sky. It was only through the tolls of the clock tower that overlooked the city that the citizens were able to keep time. Natsu had heard it chime noon not long before he had walked outside.

Clover was a small town, known as the home of the spirit bugs, or as the locals called them- lullaby beetles. But it was probably better known for housing one of the six Harvest Houses that grew food for Fiore. Each house was manned by a member of the Six Prayers. The one in Clover was run by a man under the name of Erigor, though most of the workers referred to him as the Grim Reaper. No one was really sure where he came from. For years the House was ran by Hoteye, a man who, though he loved money more than anything, ran the House with a fair hand. Then one night, he disappeared- many thinking he had been punished by the Moon for his recent change of heart after finding his brother. Soon after, Erigor arrived, taking over the reins and keeping them in check. Natsu had never met him, but he had heard stories of the man who acted as judge and jury. He would walk the rows of the Houses with a scythe draped across his shoulders and any infraction, no matter how small- or the reason- would be punished with a swift swing from the looming weapon.

Now the Harvest Houses did have one thing going for them; they paid good money. There was only one thing wrong with the money, other than the supervisor. And that was the conditions. The artificial suns release a toxin into the air that slowly drives all who work there too long mad. Natsu was sure it wasn't just the workers who felt it, but a certain scythe wielding maniac as well. Natsu had seen how this poison affected the people, they lost sense of time. Some going weeks without eating, believing it had only been a couple of hours, and starving themselves to death. Others acted as children, lost in their own worlds, slowly wasting away as invalids. And then there were those who just went insane- voices clawing away at their minds, brains racked with anxiety and fear. No one survived this "Real Nightmare." Not for long that is.

For every ten people that went into the Houses, only six would come back out. Natsu didn't want to become another number tallied on a ledger, but with only a couple thousand jewel left in his pack, it was looking as if he wouldn't have much of a choice.

Clover was- and had always been- a farming town. The Age of Edolas hadn't altered that. Work was laborious and limited to field work. The occasional tavern would open, but the men didn't work in them- women did, drawing in the exhausted workers to spend a few extra coins. The Harvest Houses were his only option, as much as the thought of being at the beck and call of such a merciless man churned his stomach.

So with eyes searching the skies and a prayer to the missing stars, he headed to the west of the town, where the Houses rested on the shore of the Wiccan River. Soon that river would find its way to the ocean, emptying its contents into the sea to drift along the waves and mix with the world's tears. But until then, it dozed in farmlands and pastures, feeding the land and it's lies.

The paths he walked were worn wandering strips that banded the land in scars. Battered with years of use, they cut across the rolling hills that marked the edge of the town and slowly dipped towards the river bank. To Natsu, the trails were home. Painted on a map behind his eyes. Paths he walked with sure steps. It was a game of faith he played with himself- walking the world with eyes closed. The world was different when the only senses you could use where those of your smell, sound and touch. The world was different when you took away what something was and created what you thought. It was full of wonder, of imagination and of lost time. It was a world that would have made man smile and children laugh. It was a place that only Natsu knew. This place with eyes closed. He knew a turn before he took it, felt the blades of grass cut his feet and the breeze slice his cheeks. The world muttered breath, and Natsu caught the words that were hidden. Life was hidden in cracks of the heavens and Natsu heard them call. It was the heat that the soil brandished, the songs in the scattered trees. It was the sound of the shattered rocks and the feel of the pulsing energy of the earth. It was everything and it was nothing. And it was Natsu's.

As he walked the paths with sure feet, he remembered the stories his father would spin for him when lightning caused the thin walls of their house to shake. His favourite was about the Dragon with eyes of flames and scales that captured the sunrise, who watched over man from her home of rocks.

" _This dragon watched everyday as man clutched at the hand of the devil to follow in the wake of death. She tried to show man that the world held more colour than the grey they saw it in, but every time she tried, man pushed her away."_

" _Why would they push the Sun dragon away, Igneel?" Natsu asked, clutching the blanket tighter in his toddler hands._

" _Because there was another dragon, this one with eyes that drank love and scales that absorbed light. He tricked all the men to believe that the Sun dragon had abandoned them, and that if they followed him, he would help them start life again from the ashes of their world. Man was desperate to survive and soon people forgot that the Sun dragon ever existed. She was saddened by man's blind devotion to this new dragon, so she hid in her home of rock."_

" _Did the men ever go looking for her?"_

" _There were a few who dared, but no one could ever find trace of her. There was no map to show them where to go, so man lived in darkness."_

" _I don't like this story. Tell me the one with the faeries born of fire again."_

 _His father sighed, leaning closer to Natsu's bed. Wrinkles lined his forehead, but Natsu didn't realise how old Igneel looked at that moment, he just wanted another story of magic and fire to rock him to sleep._

" _This is an important story Natsu. You are like the men in that story, leading your own life without opening your eyes."_

" _My eyes are always open, Igneel. Except for when I'm asleep. "_

 _Igneel just laughed and reached over to rub his head. "If you don't want to listen, then I guess you don't want to find out how to find the Sun dragon."_

 _Natsu quit his attempt to bat his dad's hand away to stare at his father with rounded eyes._

" _You know how to find her?"_

" _Of course I do."_

" _Then tell me," he demanded in his small voice._

" _Only if you promise to remember."_

" _I'm gonna find the Sun dragon, Igneel. And she's gonna teach me how to breath fire!"_

" _Then listen carefully."_

That was the last story his father had told him. The last time he chased away the fear with his words. When Natsu slept, his father had kissed him on the forehead and disappeared into the night. When he woke up, Natsu was without a father.

His father and him were close with few in their town, most feared the ideas his father had believed. Going against Zeref was like sentencing yourself to death. The people who believed were brought forth before their king to be burned in front of the castle, anyone who knew them were sent to the dungeons as an example. The king held their power. So when Igneel left, the townsfolk didn't come to Natsu's aid. They had their own families to go back to. Their own lives to live. When he was younger he didn't understand why the local kids would run from him. As he grew, he learned to accept it. He caught whispers, snippets of conversations not meant for his ears, and pieced enough together to understand they didn't do it out of malice, but for survival. He was known for years as 'The End'. Many thinking he would bring punishment for them all. But the king never came. As time wore on, the name was forgotten and the townsfolk opened doors for him again. By that time, he was already alone and didn't need to rely on anybody again.


	3. The Fire of the Beast

**Chapter 2:**

 **The Fire of the Beast**

The walls of the Harvest Houses oozed black slime from the cracks between the boards that made up the walls, but Natsu paid no attention to them. He stood still as the rail thin man circled him again. The man's eyes reminded him of a hawks as he looked under one arm then the other.

"Healthy man, five foot nine inches, weighing ten and a half stone," He recited to a man who sat behind the desk recording every word. "How old did you say you were?"

"Nineteen, sir."

"Nineteen years of age. Identifying factors- scar across neck, pink hair and olive eyes," he continued, still circling Natsu.

"Don't you want my name?"

"You don't have a name in the Houses. Here you will be a number, just like everyone else," The man barked, walking back to the desk where his assistant handed him a sheet of paper. "It looks as if we have an new opening. When you walk into that building you will be the new number 687."

Natsu reached for his jacket, which he had stripped from at the beginning of the examination, and shrugged it back on. Eyes following the man as he scurried around the room searching for something. There was a fire burning in the fireplace that sat in the corner of the room, the only thing not dripping with that black oil.

"687, come over here," the man beckoned him towards the fire where he stood.

Natsu made his way towards him, the heat of the fire burning his skin in the stuffy heat of the room. He started at the flames that danced in their cage. There was a country to the north of Fiore that was said to ban all caged flames, a disrespect to their god. As Natsu read stories in the embers, he realised too, that the imprisoning the fire was like trapping a wild spirit, just another way to control.

"This will only hurt a bit," the man laughed, black teeth reflecting like fangs in his mouth as he pulled a metal disk from the fire. He grabbed Natsu's arm with his free hand, holding it palm up to expose the soft skin of his wrist.

The disk was red hot and Natsu realised what he aimed to do. He jerked his arm trying to free it from the grasp of the man, but despite his size he was deceivingly strong, holding his wrist firm when the brand was brought closer.

Adrenaline masked the pain for a moment, the fear of pain keeping him from moving, but then he felt it. That twisting burn that etched at the jagged injury. The man smiled at him as he held the red brand to his wrist, longer than if he was just marking him. This was past just business and into pleasure for him. The man was enjoying this, the way the iron gave him the illusion of power. And he was waiting for Natsu to scream, as everyone else had.

"Number 687, I want you to ask for it to stop," he laughed, eyes reflecting the same burn as the fire.

The pain radiated up his arm as if the fire was in his blood and not his skin. As if glass had been injected into his veins and ran the course of his body. He would have screamed if he hadn't seen those eyes. The eyes of a man who would remember his pleas, as he remembered the tears of every other victim he had. So Natsu's mouth was sewn shut.

"If you don't speak, I'll burn you again 687," the man laughed, raising the poker from his wrist to slam it down again a little bit higher on his arm. Fresh pain lanced up his arm as the second brand was seared into his flesh.

There's a certain smell that comes with burned flesh. It doesn't smell as other cooked meats do, but rather if one could name the smell it would be charcoal. The sickly sweet smoke that cogs one's nose with a concoction of soot and vapour. It is a smell that once smelt can never be forgotten. It will never be mistaken for another aroma. Never just a subtle hint of what was. It was a living thing that crawled around you, suffocating you in its scent. And it would forever be something that Natsu would remember, even after years of never smelling it again.

It was only when the brand was pressed into his skin for the third time that he allowed himself to fall to his knees. "Remember this 687. Remember this as the first day of many, of learning that you will always fall to your knees. Remember this as the day when you bowed to me, Klodoa!" The man cackled as he pressed the brand again and again into his arm. His laugh, Natsu swore, caused the walls to ooze some more. The man finally let his arm fall and replaced the brand in the fire. "Add to identifying features, twelve brands on his right arm."

The brands were shaped in a symbol that Natsu had never seen before, as if written in a different language. Some of the marks were peeling and black. Others were a fierce red colour, bubbling with blisters seeping blood. They covered his arm from elbow to wrist, twelve in all. And each one, Natsu wanted to carve from his flesh. But he lay where he was tossed after blacking out in the House's office. The hay wet and rotting beneath him.

"Those wounds need to be cleaned, or you'll die of infection, child," A voice behind him instructed, but he didn't raise his head to look. Didn't move to acknowledge that he had heard her.

"Child, listen to me. You need to get up or you'll end up like him." There was something in her voice this time that made him open his eyes. Something urgent. "The guards will be back in a couple of moments and I only have this time to help you. Come here boy."

It was the first time he looked around. Seeing the bars that caged him in a prison almost too small for him to stand up in. It wasn't long before he discovered the him the lady had warned him about. There was a man, or something that may have once been a man folded in the corner of his cell. The rats had taken most of his face, and what they didn't were covered in scars. His remaining eye stared straight towards him as if begging to be put to rest. His clothes were threadbare and rotting, and stank of sweat and blood.

"Don't mind him. He won't hurt you. Come here boy," she repeated. She was a middle aged woman in the cell next to his. Her hair would have once caught sunlight, but now hung in stringy ropes of brown across her shoulders. Her hands were scarred and bruised. Worn in the ways of knowing a weapon. Though the clothes that hung from her body suggested that she was once bigger than she was now, she didn't hold herself as being frail. When she reached her arms out towards him, they were nothing more than bone held together by skin. She was a skeleton of sharp edges, already dead, but then he looked into her eyes.

Her eyes were not those of a prisoner, but one of a survivor. Fire burned fierce in them and so he pulled his body closer to her. With every drag of his arms as crawled towards her, he swore he would black out again, his arm shaking under the stress of his weight. But he had seen her eyes, and something told him that this was his only chance.

He was sweating by the time he reached the edge of his prison, careful to keep his distance from the body that was sprawled on the other side. Careful to not shatter the illusion of strength he clung to.

"Your arm child," the woman instructed reaching through the bars of her cage, breaching the distance between them. Natsu too helped reach across the space. Her hands were cold as she took his arm and slowly turned it one way then the next. She clicked her tongue as she thought. "You must have been a strong one."

"I'm not strong," he responded, hissing through his teeth when she dragged her fingers across one of the brands.

"They only bring the strong here. To break us before we rebel. If all of us have fallen, then they don't have to worry about fights."

"I'm not strong," he repeated.

Her eyes flashed to his and again he saw that fire in them, that unbridled will. "Then you better learn quick how to fake it. You won't last long here if you're not." She dropped his arm and retreated to the far corner of her cell. She dug around in some of the hay that was scattered across the floor before returning.

"This will hurt," she said as she once again picked up his arm, this time softly muttering something under her breath as she did.

If Natsu thought the burning hurt, he almost laughed at that compared to this. He felt his skin twist in agonizing escape. His already inflamed wounds, pulsed with crippling anguish. The woman didn't stop as he thrashed against her hold, as the fire burned again and again. His eyes clouded over and he felt his vision dimming again, and he thought that this was it. This was just another form of torture. This was another test of his will, so through gritted teeth, he forced his eyes to focus. Focus on the woman and her damning hold on him.

Just as suddenly had the pain started, it stopped. Daring a look at his arm, he gaped. All the scars were just that, scars. Puckered ridges of skin, no longer bleeding, blackened sores. "What did you do?"

The woman looked to the ceiling of the dungeon they sat in, as if looking for the sky. How many floors were between them and that open expanse? How many tons of rock were blocking their view of freedom? He looked to the ceiling too, wishing he could see past it, feeling small beneath its mass.

He felt a weight pressed into his palm. The lady closed his hand around the object. "I don't have much time. I need you to give these to her."

"What do you mean no time?"

"Traitors aren't given time. They're given punishment. They are scared, magic is a gift."

"Magic?" Natsu tried to process her words, so tangled in a net of unrest.

"It is the only thing that holds power over the king. He has to fall," her voice was frantic.

"You're talking treason."

"The Sun lives," desperate hands clutched at his arm. "She lives in her home of rocks and waits. With waters blue, they see the truth. Touched in every land, the river sees, so truth it drinks. Follow it and you will find her. The river knows the truth."

" _The Wiccan River has waters so clear, they drink the truth of the land, unable to be marred by lies. If the waters cloud, it has been tainted, but until then the River shows only truth. Follow it and you will find her, it knows the way."_ His father's words echoed in his head.

"Who are you?" Natsu asked, studying her, as if he looked hard enough he would uncover her secrets. Footsteps sounded in the distance, the sound of the guards approaching.

She patted his hand where he still clutched at the foreign object she had given him. "Please tell me you will give these to her. Her name is Wendy, please save her. Please," she begged, before releasing his hand and retreating to the back corner of her cage. "Tell her I loved her." The last part was a whisper, a shell of the woman he had met. In that moment, he saw what it would be like to break, to lose, to surrender. In that moment he understood defeat.

"I promise," he vowed, pulling his hand back inside the bars. It was the last thing that he was able to say as the guards rounded the corner. They were larger then normal men, standing over six and a half feet tall. Their faces resembled that of a pig's, tusks protruding from their bottom lips. One had a ring pierced through his nose, both had their stringy red hair pulled back from their faces in braids. Beads hung from certain strands identifying rank and tribe.

"Trolls," Natsu breathed. He didn't think that he would ever see one, they were known for living deep in the Boundary Forest. He had never seen one around the town, but here two were standing just feet from him.

They turned towards the woman. Meaty hands, tipped with nails filed into points, reached for keys strapped around his waist. While one unlocked the prison door, the other loosened the mace strapped to his back. It was a wicked looking thing, all spikes and rust.

"What are you doing?" Natsu asked as the door creaked open.

The two trolls didn't spare him a look as they pulled the woman from her cell by a fist of her hair. The woman didn't make a noise, didn't fight. "Number 687, your term has been terminated," one of them told her, the one that had opened the door. The second raised his weapon.

He caught her eyes the moment before the blow landed. It was as if time stopped, her eyes darting to his palm and back to his eyes, in response he clutched it closer to his chest, and she smiled in understanding. Then the swing connected.

Just like the smell of burning skin, the sound of the mace as it made contact was not something that he would soon forget. The thick clogging sound of wet suction. He stared at horror at her crumpled form, at the side of her head that was no longer there. He saw blood as the trolls opened his cell.

"Number 687, are you ready for service?"

Numbly he made his way to his feet, not really seeing the steps he took. Not feeling the weight of one of the guard's hand on his shoulder steering him through the maze of hallways, cages just like his lined every one. He didn't bother a glance to see if any others were full. The object in his hand felt warm and he clutched it even tighter. His mind playing her last moments over and over, and how her lips and moved to form one word.

 _Sorry._


	4. A Flightless Bird

**Chapter 3:**

 **A Flightless Bird**

The stairs never seemed to end. The hand from his shoulder had been lifted, but the sharp press from the weapon cutting into the middle of his back wouldn't see him trying anything anytime soon. As Natsu and his escort of the two trolls rounded the corner to yet another staircase, he returned to his thought of the sky. And how far beneath the earth he was held.

"The boss wants to see you," the troll in front of him grunted, halting beside a wooden door, knocking sharply on it with the hilt of the mace he held. The mace that was still wet with warm blood. Natsu's stomach rolled and he ripped his eyes away, swallowing the bile that was forced up his throat.

A wooden panel slid away from the door and another pair of beady black eyes peered at them. "They're getting skinnier every day. Next time you walk up those stairs you will be leading fish bones and asking if it's fit to be working." The voice was lisped as if the beast on the other side was chewing on something.

"Don't make decisions Drukru. Don't ask questions. If this is what the boss wants, this is what he gets," his guard responded, holstering the mace he dangled between his fingers.

"I suppose you want through then." The troll spat something out of view of the window before the clank of the deadbolt opening was heard.

The guard behind him ground his weapon into Natsu's back, grunting for him to move. Heavy feet dragged him forward. The door swung open revealing a short, squat troll. Rolls of fat spilled over each other as they exploded out the bottom of a leather tunic. His nose was shoved upwards strongly resembling a boar's muzzle. One of his tusks was broken off and replaced with a metal spike. A sticky sheen coated the troll's mouldy skin.

"Ain't ya mama tell you staring is rude, rat?" He picked something out from between two rotten teeth with a splintered nail, spitting it to the side.

Natsu averted his gaze, focussing on the stones that cracked beneath his feet. The troll guffawed, saliva flying from his mouth. His hand landed on the shoulder of the guard that followed him through the door. "Ten thousand jewel says he doesn't last a week."

The guard fingered the dagger hanging at his waist. "A hundred thousand says he doesn't make it through the day."

There was that laugh again, grating at Natsu's eardrums. "Such low confidence in your pet, Kunthal. Perhaps keeping secrets to win. Ol' Drukru don't make bets he can't win. Keep your money."

"Klodoa took a liking to the rat. The boss wants to see what makes him jump."

Drukru spat to the side again. "He has three hours before Master breaks him."

"The boss will have him blubbering in two."

After seeing only stone lit with the occasional torch during his walk he didn't think much of the room he was standing outside of. But when the doors opened to reveal a roaring fireplace, Natsu was shocked. The room was what looked to function as an office. A heavy wooden desk sat at the far end- in front of the fire, so clean it looked never to be used. Empty bookcases lined both walls framing the masterpiece that stood in the center. Surrounded by overstuffed leather lounges, there sat a gilded birdcage. Silver twined with gold to arch delicate patterns. Gemstones were embedded at the heart of every swirl. The cage was a beautifully intricate work of art, something that looked out of place here, in the dank of the room.

Natsu's stomach rolled as rags in the cage shifted, revealing wide brown eyes. There was a young girl kneeling within the cage, her head stooped to fit in the small quarters. A dark purple smudge marred the side of her face, fading to greens and yellows around her eye and forehead. Her lips were swollen and dried blood dripped from a slash across the bottom one. Blue hair fell in a knotted mess across her thin shoulders. The girl raised her hand the cage, pressing her palm into the cool metal- only her fingers able to slip through the cracks. It looked as if she was trying to reach towards him, or maybe ward him off. Her robe slid off her arm revealing bands of bruises that looked like a handprint.

He stared at the girl and the girl stared back. Her eyes darted past him to the troll that walked in after him and quickly ducked her head again, once again looking like a pile of rags. Anger churned with his blood, pumping fuel through his body. She was a little girl, looking to be barely 10 summers old. What had she done to deserve such punishment? What could any child do? Heat baked his fists with the urge to punch someone. They itched to bend the bars of her cage and release her from her prison, but thought made him stand still.

It had been years since Natsu had learned the basic forms of fighting. His dad holding his hands in the correct position as he attempted to stand right. The sting from the reed staff his dad always carried, across his fingers when he did something wrong. He was three when his dad first taught him a proper punch- when most kids were just learning to walk and play, Natsu was learning the ways to take down a kid larger than himself. The fight was ingrained in his mind, his body always on a balance of a blow. He would never be one to call himself stable, he fought with rage. And that thrill of battle was racing through his veins- thinly held in check by rational thought. Even if he did take down the troll standing now guard by the door, there was no way to open the cage.

A door hidden beside the fireplace opened and a tall man walked in. Loose pants hung from his waist, tied with a torn white cloth. A black cloak was draped over his shoulders, a hood obscuring his features as the fire caused shadows to dance on the planes of his body. The blue tattoos shimmering on his skin, almost looking as if they were moving within their lines, seemed to be written in the same language as the brands on Natsu's arm. White bandages wrapped his fists and forearms, as if ready for a fight.

He lazily walked around the cage in the middle of the room to Natsu. His body not swaying, looking unnatural, almost as if he was gliding. The blade of the scythe wrapped around his body glimmered as it caught lost flames from the fire. This must be Erigor, the one called the Grim Reaper.

A wicked smile curled on Erigor's exposed lips, white teeth glimmering. "I see I was brought a worm. I like worms- the way they feel as the burst when put under enough pressure, the sound they make as they pop." Fingers danced on the warn staff of his weapon. "I think you will make an excellent worm, 687."

Natsu watched him as he slid to the centre of the room, towards the cowering girl. He slid a long finger through the bars, stroking the her exposed arm. "How do you like my display? She reminds me of a bird, so I stuck her in a cage to be gawked at like all birds should."

Embers burned as eyes narrowed. "Let her go." Every word was delivered with power and hate, hands curled into fists at his side.

Erigor clicked his tongue, sighing. "You just don't understand art, worm. She is a bird to be plucked of her feathers and striped from the sky." Withdrawing his hand, the girl still didn't move. "Why don't you sing for us little birdie. Put on a show for our visitor."

Before either she or Natsu had time to react, the bottom of the cage gave way, and the girl tumbled to the floor. The girl didn't make a sound. "I didn't hear you little birdie. And you know what we do to pets that don't listen." He shot a glance towards the door, and beckoned the troll forward. Two fingers curled at two points. "Kunthal, come join us. The little bird refuses to sing for me. I wonder if she will if you ask her to."

The troll barred his fanged teeth in a feral grin, as he stalked towards the girl who was scrambling away, her eyes full of fear. "Don't run from our guest little birdie. He only wants to play with you," Erigor cackled, swinging his scythe so that is pinned the rags of her pants to the floor.

"Ya, I just want to play with you." Kunthal took the last couple of steps forward until he stared down the girl. Hand playing with the dagger at his hip, sliding it from its sheath. "Will you sing for me?"

Natsu watched his every move. Knowing before striking- with the girl so close he had to be precise. Had to know his opponents every move before he made it. As Kunthal had been escorting him, Natsu's mind was filing away information he would be able to use, the slight limp to his left leg, the way he favoured his right arm, the thickness of the leather armour he wore. Little details.

Kunthal kneeled in front of the girl, Erigor removed his blade and settled on one of the lounges, scythe lying before him. It would cost him precious seconds to grab it again as he lay against the back. The knife blurred and a line of red appeared across the girl's cheek, less than an inch from her eye. The girl sat frozen, but still not a sound came from her. "I guess you want to play too."

He drew his hand back to strike again, but his fist was caught. "I said, let her go." Jerking his hand from Natsu's hold, the troll grunted and rolled back on his heels. He was up and turned around- he was fast.

"The rat wants a turn too, huh? The more the merrier I say." The troll lunged, Natsu side-stepped the straightforward attack, aiming a kick to his left knee. He went down with a cry, old injury it looked like. Kunthal's face twisted into a sneer as he made his way to his feet, leaning heavily on his right leg. His eyes promised bloodshed. Natsu rolled his weight to his toes, ready to dodge the incoming blow. Though he held the dagger in his left hand, Natsu knew the blow was coming from the right. When the punch came, he hammered his fist into the inside or the troll's elbow with one hand and followed through with an upwards thrust to his nose. Kunthal dropped like a stunned calf.

Clapping came from behind him. Turning to face the sound, Erigor- still lounging from his place on his seat- clapped slowly. "Who would have guessed that the worm could fight. At least you made it an interesting show though." Standing up, he reached for his weapon and walked towards the downed guard. Natsu pivoted his body, keeping himself between Erigor and the girl. He nudged the troll with his foot enticing a moan from it. "I would have thought you would have lasted longer Kunthal. He is a worm, you are one of my elite guard. I would like to relieve you of your services. I won't have the weak serving me." The blade shone and blood pooled from the now headless body.

"Now I have to deal with you." Raising the scythe still dripping with the green blood of the troll, he turned to Natsu. "How long do you think you will last? How long do you think it will take before you lay bleeding on the floor and I let you watch me carve pieces from the girl's flesh?"

Fire boiled from that spot in his soul Natsu kept it buried in. He allowed the anger to consume him. Allowed it to tear through the thin veil of thought that was keeping him rational. The walls cracked with his rage. Erigor laughed. "Is the little worm angry. That will make it all the more fun, watching the fight drain from your eyes. How long will you protect the girl for? How much pain will you take for her?"

Erigor moved with the grace of a dancer. Floating across the room as a silent wraith. Shadows drawn into him as a shield. Natsu braced. Even though he was prepared for it the wound still burned, but he took the hit to get him close. Erigor had expected him to move, and now as they stood face to face, there wasn't enough room for him to swing his weapon.

The throb of agony robbed his arm of strength, but he would shelter the girl with his body. His hatred coloured his vision red, but it also sharpened details. As if time slowed for him. He had to stay close to him. Bending his knees, Natsu jumped into him, wrapping his arms around the stunned man's body. They both tumbled to the ground, fists and knees flying as they combated each other. Natsu's vision dimmed as he took a punch to the cheek, Erigor took his chance and rolled them so now he was the one on top. Kneeling on Natsu's hands- he smiled a bloody smile. "So close worm. But you will never be able to beat me. I am Erigor of the northern winds and the Moon has blessed me. So make peace with him." Hands covered his throat. Natsu thrashed, hands stuck he struggled to breath. The pressure increased. "Die worm. I like the sound you make as you die." His vision was black and his struggles feeble when he felt the weight disappear.

He gulped air through a crushed windpipe. Air rasping through bruised lungs. Erigor lay motionless at his side. The girl kneeled at his feet a bloody dagger clutched between two palms. He eyes were closed and she seemed to be muttering to herself.

Natsu rubbed his throat, heaving. He reached for the girl. His hand light on her arm. Her eyes flew open and she brandished the dagger before her, eyes wide and crazed. "We need to get out of here. Drop the knife." She stared at him for a moment before the knife clattered to the ground between them, her eyes following it as it rested on the floor as if it was about to move on its own.

"We need to go," Natsu repeated. Reaching for her again. The girl met his eyes, wide and shining with unshed tears.

"I killed him." Her voice was soft. Petals blown in the wind.

"What's your name?"

"I killed him," she repeated glaring at her hands as if offended that they belonged to her. "I killed him."

She repeated it over and over. Her voice quiet in the room. Natsu glanced at the two bodies surrounding them. "Look at me." Sharp, it snapped the girl from herself. "We need to leave." The girl slowly nodded. "What's your name?"

"Wendy. We can't leave without my mom." She was desperate, clinging to his open coat. "They took her, we need to leave with her too."

That wet thud echoed in his mind. He took both her thin arms in his hands. "She's gone. They killed her for having something they don't"

"D-dead?" She stuttered. "No. No, no, no, no, no!" Her arms wrapped around herself as a thin shield. She rocked back and forth. Natsu gave one look at the girl before lifting her into his arms. She clung to his neck as her silent tears wetted his shirt. He cradled her to his chest.

Escape.

 **I really hope you enjoyed and again I would love for you to review so I know if this is a good story to continue.**

 **Thanks so much everyone! Love you all!**


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